Croatoan
by Quinn the Jedi
Summary: Derek, Stiles, and their friends head into the wilderness for a relaxing getaway; but our boys from Beacon Hills should know better, they don't get breaks. Will they ever make it back? Slow burn Sterek
1. Chapter 1

Whatcha need to know: AU set sometime between seasons 3B and 4. Neither Allison nor Aiden died in the battle with the nogitsune (although the twins have since run off), Isaac hasn't disappeared mysteriously and Jackson's back.

Pack tentatively consists of Alpha Derek, Betas Scott, Isaac, and Jackson; honorary members Stiles, Allison, Kira and Lydia. Peter exists but is plotting elsewhere, I'm sure. Slow burn Sterek with offpairings – Jackson/Lydia, Scott/Kira, Scott/Allison, Isaac/Allison

Reviews are what make me write faster, so drop me a line with your thoughts. Love!

**Croatoan**

Chapter 1: The Cabin in the Woods

"This sucks." Scott whined. Stiles grit his teeth and gripped the steering wheel a little harder, trying valiantly to resist the urge to pull a Derek and smash his best friend's head against the dashboard. They were on their way to a calm, relaxing getaway with all their friends; a well deserved respite from all the mayhem and madness that consumed every waking moment of their lives. All of them had been through the ringer the past few years; no one had escaped their fair share of tragedy. Stiles himself was still trying to shake the nightmares from his round with the mummyman that mind fucked him; and as usual, Scott was bemoaning his ever-so-tragic love life.

Stiles turned the radio up, wishing to god someone had volunteered to carpool with them to save him the constant agony of playing therapist to the seemingly never-ending torrent of drama his best friend seemed to generate. When they'd all set off, Kira had been steps, mere steps away from hopping in his backseat before Lydia dragged her and Allison to Jackson's sleek sports car; Isaac rushing to the passenger door of Derek's camaro, giving Scott a wide berth.

"Man, this _sucks_."

"Oh, my god. You know what sucks? Having to listen to you. This sucks."

Scott slumped in the seat, Stiles wished his seat belt would choke him. "Man, what do I do? I'm so dead. There is no way I'm lasting this week."

Stiles shook his head, throwing a hand up in exasperation, "How is this a bad thing? You and Allison broke up ages ago. It can't still be awkward." he glanced over at Scott's stony face, correcting himself. "Okay, maybe it can. But I mean she's been hanging around Isaac constantly, it's not like she can say anything about you and Kira, right?"

"Yeah," Scott ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window. Stiles glanced at him, recognizing his sad puppy eyes in the reflection, smacking him in the shoulder.

"Hey hey hey, what'd you do."

"I didn't do anything!" Scott protested, tilting his head slightly as he relented, "I mean, I, I didn't mean to do anything. It's just uh, I don't know, it was just really late. And I didn't think, and I-"

"Slow down buddy, spluttering incoherently is my thing. Just tell me what happened."

Scott sighed and hung his head, cheeks growing red. "Isaac came home late last night, I was already sleeping. He woke me up, and he smelt like Allison and I wasn't really awake yet, you know? And uh." he trailed off, Stiles raised his eyebrows at him.

"What? Don't tell me you threw him at a wall again." One look at his guilty expression was all he needed. Stiles threw his head back and groaned in frustration. "Man! We're supposed to be going on this vacation to get away from all the crap we got going on at home, and you gotta assault your were-brother before we even get in the car?"

"It's not like I meant to, Stiles." Scott muttered insolently, sitting back in his seat in a huff. He rolled his eyes at him.

"Dude, I thought you were over this. You and Allison were being nice at each other, you and Kira are all lovey-dovey; what the hell?"

Scott groaned. "I know."

"So I'll ask again. What. The hell."

"I don't know! I mean yeah, me and Allison are friends and stuff, and yeah, I really like Kira, I mean, I really, really like Kira.. It's just, I don't know, it's like I can't let it go; it's like she was mine, and he took her from me. Even if I don't want to be with her anymore, I just. I don't want _him_ to be with her."

"Is this like a weird pack thing? Did you do some sort of wolfy mating ritual while you guys were doing the nasty?" Stiles asked, following Derek's camaro down an off-ramp from the highway, Jackson's car tailing his jeep. Scott sighed heavily.

"I think it's just a normal teenage jealousy thing."

Stiles' eyes unconsciously flicked to the silver porsche in his rearview mirror, Jackson's smug asshole face in the driver's seat with a beautiful banshee riding shotgun. Jealousy was something Stiles knew plenty about.

"You got nothing to be jealous of man, Kira's awesome. Like, really awesome. And her father's pretty cool, instead of one that's trying to murder you half the time."

He glanced over at his best friend, who was now glancing at the car behind them around the seat suspiciously, eyebrows drawn together in concern. "I don't like them both back there." he said, voice tight. "Having your ex-girlfriend and current kinda-girlfriend hanging out together is never, ever a good thing."

Stiles patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry buddy. I'm sure Jackson's presence alone will make it a sufficiently uncomfortable and awkward roadtrip."

"Yeah, and what about for the week?" he asked, turning back around, "What if they bond or something and become best friends? They'd gang up against me."

"Yeah, I can't see that happening. Allison isn't the friendliest person on the planet, if you hadn't noticed."

Scott didn't respond, Stiles glanced over at him, making a disgusted noise at the dreamy, faraway look on his face. "You're thinking about them ganging up on you in a sexy way, aren't you." he said accusingly; Scott snapped out of it and gave him a shocked look, opening his mouth to argue. "Don't bother," he held up a hand, "As a severely sex deprived individual, I can twist any situation into an erotic fantasy. The other day, coach was saying-" Scott cut him off abruptly, trying not to laugh.

"Oh god, stop. I really, _really_ don't want to know."

Stiles snapped his mouth shut, shooting him a glare. "Okay, maybe fantasy was the wrong word-"

"Just stop." Scott shook his head, looking out the window; Stiles saw his smile in his reflection, smirking to himself in satisfaction. Now that Scott wasn't incessantly bemoaning his life, maybe he could start enjoying this trip.

Four hours later they reached their destination. They'd started north on the highway out of Beacon Hills then headed east towards the country, past roaming farmlands and through small, rugged towns. They'd turned down a road heading into the forest, following it through the uneven terrain, delving deeper and deeper into the vast expanse of thick woods. Just before they'd gotten to the house the trees had opened up to reveal a spectacular lake, a small waterfall churning up the waters and creating a sheen of fog hovering above the water's surface, shimmering in the afternoon light. A little further and their journey had finally come to an end, which Stiles' bladder was immensely grateful for. They'd reached a jumbo-sized cabin; a massive two story log structure with a window seat to the left of the door and two small balconies with wooden rails on the second floor to the right.

The dirt driveway circled by the front door, Derek pulled the camaro up past the house and parked close to the street; Stiles drove into the grass beside him, almost hitting Isaac as he shot out of the car. The porsche pulled up behind Derek; Jackson was already parked and glaring at him by the time he'd hopped out of the jeep.

"Really Stilinski? You're already defacing my family's property." he snapped, Lydia got out of the passenger seat and shook her hair back, sending him a pointed look.

"Jackson," she sang at him, dimples in her cheeks and eyelashes fluttering, "We're here to enjoy ourselves, remember?"

Jackson worked his jaw and slammed his door shut; Kira and Allison got out of the car, both looking very ill at ease. Scott rounded the front of the jeep to stand by him, he nodded at the girls and swatted his chest with the back of his hand.

"See? What'd I tell ya. Probably the most uncomfortable ride of the century."

Scott shot him a look and pushed past him, wrenching open the door to his backseat, retrieving their backpacks. He tossed his backpack at him and jogged over to greet Kira, a relieved smile spreading on her face as she took his hand; while Lydia linked her arm with Allison's as they made their way towards the door.

Stiles slung his overstuffed bag over his shoulder and approached Isaac, leaning against the back of the jeep. "Hey man, how was the ride?"

He lifted his head, squinting against the sun. "It was fine. Little quiet, he wouldn't turn on the radio. We made pretty good time, right?"

"Yeah, Derek averages a good twenty over the speed limit, he's tough to follow. Didn't Jackson say it was like a six hour trip?"

Isaac nodded, pushing his hands in his pockets. "I think so. Guess there's usually more traffic or something, I think I saw five cars the whole time."

Derek got out of the car behind them and slammed the door, rounding the back to approach them, tossing a duffel bag at Isaac roughly. "Your bag."

Isaac caught it as it impacted his stomach, "Thanks."

"So, you excited to hang out with your favorite teenagers?" Stiles slapped Derek on the shoulder with a grin; Derek looked at his hand and back up at him sharply, mouth clenched tight as hazel eyes narrowed at him.

"Thrilled." his teeth flashed as he spoke, Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and snatched his hand back. Derek glanced at Isaac and turned to the house, hefting a black bag over his shoulder. Stiles watched him walk towards the door for a moment, then turned back to Isaac.

"If he doesn't want to be here, why did he even come?"

Isaac pushed off the jeep and headed after him, "Scott talked him into it. He thought it'd be a good idea if the pack bonded." he drawled, Stiles could practically hear the quotation marks around the last word. "But Jackson's aunt wouldn't let us stay here without a chaperone or something, so now it really is a family affair."

"Oh yeah, because the guy with an extensive history of being suspected for murder and arriving at hospitals with bloodied minors is exactly who I'd want chaperoning."

Isaac snorted, slowing slightly as they approached the front door, Scott and Kira visible in the entryway. Stiles glanced at him, nudging him with his elbow. "Scott told me about this morning. You guys gonna be okay this trip?"

He shrugged, "I hope so. I keep thinking things are alright, and I guess they kinda are.. Except sometimes they're not. You know?"

Stiles wandered towards the door, Jackson bustling past him with an armful of bags. "I think that's about as good as it gets for us, buddy." he said over his shoulder as he walked inside; taken aback at how large the house was.

The living room had cathedral ceilings and a delicate silver chandelier over the large fireplace, a large tv centered above the mantle and tall bookshelves flanking it. Matching couches and chairs with thick, green cushions were scattered throughout the space; fringed persian throw rugs dotting gleaming mahogany floors. The wall opposite the window seat was all glass; revealing a medium sized pool and hot tub on the other side, a sliding glass door to the kitchen on the right. An elaborate dining room was to the right past the large staircase in front of them, Jackson approached them and dumped his armful of bags at the base of the steps.

"Jackson! My jewelery box is in there!" Lydia gasped, her mouth dropping open; he stared at her in disbelief.

"Who brings a jewelery box for a week in a cabin?"

She turned her back on him, putting a hand on Allison's arm. "We should go claim rooms." she looked over her shoulder at Jackson expectantly, wide green eyes flicking to the bags on the floor and back to him. "Jackson?"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and led Allison up the stairs; Jackson shook with fury, stalking forward and snatching up the bags he'd just dropped, stomping after them. Stiles laughed despite himself, tossing his bag by the stairs and crossing over to a couch and flopping back on it. The cushions were like marshmallows, he sank into them with a wide smile, lacing his fingers behind his head and putting his feet up.

"I'd take off your shoes, or Jackson's gonna kill you." Scott warned, Stiles ignored him.

"He's probably gonna kill me anyway, one way or another. You know what I could use? A silk smoking jacket and a thick cigar. Maybe some bunny slippers."

"You don't even smoke."

"I need a drink." Derek muttered, heading towards the dining room. Scott cocked his head at him in bewilderment, furrowing his brow.

"Wait, I thought werewolves couldn't get drunk."

Derek smirked at him, "And where'd you hear that?"

"Well, Deaton said-"

"Deaton isn't a werewolf. You can get drunk." he said, disappearing around the corner, "Just not on a full moon." he called.

"Shit, now you tell me?"

Stiles snickered to himself, imagining a bunch of drunk werewolves trying to fight each other on a full moon, crashing through the woods of Beacon Hills. Isaac wandered further into the living room, sitting in a chair beside Stiles' couch, dropping his duffel at his feet.

"Hope no one wolfs out here," he looked around at the extravagant furnishings, "Everything looks crazy expensive."

Kira looked up at Scott and tugged at his hand, "C'mon, let's go see what the rooms look like." Scott gave her a warm, lopsided smile; nodding to them before heading upstairs.

"If I held Allison's hand like that, he'd probably throw me through that window." Isaac said quietly after they were out of earshot, Stiles snorted.

"Probably."

There was about five seconds of silence before Jackson's voice echoed down the stairwell.

"Lydia, I swear to god! All the rooms are exactly the same!"

Stiles shut his eyes and hummed the theme song to star wars to drown them out with a smile on his face. He had just been through the emotional, mental and physical ringer after his encounter with the nogitsune; he wasn't going to let a single thing get to him.

No matter how self-centered or grumpy his friends were this vacation; he was going to have a good time even if it killed him.

And there we have it, first of well, lots to be honest. I'm all about the slow burn because tension is magic and I have a whole bunch of crazy ideas that will wind the gang up in a semi post-apocalyptic wasteland.. The muse has struck and I've got plenty of material; if this gets any interest I'll have no choice but to get this rolling. I'm open to all feedback :) Love!


	2. Chapter 2

Here we are at chapter 2. Let me know what you think!

_**Croatoan**_

**Chapter 2: Around the Campfire**

Jackson's aunt and uncle had just been entertaining in the cabin a few days prior to their arrival. It was a vacation home and rarely used, but they had hosted a family reunion for a friend so all the rooms had been taken; perfect for them because the sheets would all be clean, the kitchen would be full, and most importantly, the bars would be freshly stocked.

Stiles knew this because this was apparently the one topic of conversation discussed in Jackson's car on the way over; which Kira had recited to Scott, and hey, it wasn't eavesdropping if they left the door wide open.

The rooms upstairs were all large with identical furnishings; four poster bed, large wardrobe, dresser with an oval mirror, desk and chair. Some had adjoining bathrooms and half had balconies, of course leading to a heated hallway debate as to who got which room. Stiles avoided the skirmish and threw his bag into the first room that was unoccupied, heading back downstairs to start rooting through the kitchen.

He never understood why rich people had huge kitchens when they barely ever cooked, and Jackson's aunt was no different. The kitchen was spotless and pointlessly huge, with shining black marble countertops, two stoves, the widest fridge Stiles had ever seen, and an island long enough to fit five barstools. He heaved one of the fridge's doors open, trying to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head at the overwhelming amount of food; eagerly digging in and rooting through his choices. He grabbed a bowl of cold penne, tearing off the saran wrap and grabbing a handful of the pasta, eating as he looked through the different types of juice.

"You really have no shame, do you."

He spun at the familiar monotonous timbre of Derek's voice, nearly dropping the bowl. He struggled to swallow his mouthful, scowling at him.

"I do too," he spluttered at him indignantly, putting the bowl back and struggling to cover it back up with the wad of saran wrap stuck to itself. Derek leaned his hip against the island and crossed his arms, watching him with amusement. "Find the booze?"

Derek reached behind him for a half-filled whiskey glass, tipping it at him before taking a swig of the amber liquid. He placed it back on the counter as Stiles began to amble towards the sliding glass door, hand reaching for the handle as he gazed out at the pool's inviting waters.

"Don't."

He turned and looked at him, taking in the wolf's stormy expression. "Don't what, go outside?"

He gave a curt nod, arms folding tightly over his broad chest once more. "Humans inside until we scout out a perimeter. I haven't been here before."

Stiles glanced out the glass at the shadows forming in the treeline; their secluded location deep in the woods suddenly seemed less peaceful and quiet, more foreboding and ominous. He thought back to how long they'd traveled through the thick forest to reach their destination, Derek had a lot of ground to cover. "My dad checked police reports in the area before he signed off on me coming, this place seems pretty quiet. No unusual animal attacks in over a decade, I think we should be good."

"We'll see." he snatched his drink back up and headed out the archway to the dining room, Stiles sighed and let his hand fall from the door. He heard voices from the living room, he made his way towards them, finding everyone mulling around idly and chatting. Derek entered from the opposite entrance by the stairs, looking each of the pack members over as he placed his drink on top of the post at the end of bannister. "Scott."

Scott glanced up from his conversation with Kira, taking a few steps away from the fireplace towards him. "Yeah?"

"Come with me, I want to give this place a quick once over."

Scott nodded, heading to the door; Jackson stood up from the couch, holding up a hand indignantly. "Wait a minute. Why not take me? I've been in these woods a hundred times."

Derek paused, the line of his jaw hard, not impressed with his immediate objection. "We're losing daylight, Scott's faster."

Stiles bit his tongue to refrain from pointing out Isaac was faster than Scott, not wanting to get the same death stare Jackson had received. They exited the front door and Jackson grumbled to himself, Kira shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably in Scott's absence.

She'd managed to assimilate into their group seamlessly, but she was too shy for her own good; an overthinker, like Stiles. Stiles could remember every single stupid thing he'd ever said, verbatim, and could list each offense in chronological order. And with his impressive record of shoving his foot in his mouth, this was not a feat to be understated; he could sympathize.

He moved over to Kira by the fireplace, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Hey." he greeted her, trying not to sound awkward. He was unsuccessful. She smiled at him with a nod, lips pressed tightly together, he glanced town at her hands furiously twisting the hem of her blouse. It was a marvel shirt; the fabric printed with squares of different comic book characters, mostly avengers and x-men. "Who's your favorite?"

She furrowed her eyebrows at him in confusion. "What?" she asked, he nodded at her shirt; she looked down and laughed. "Oh, I get it. Duh. Um, I don't know, I like all of them."

"Fair," he could rarely chose one favorite anything, never mind a superhero. "How about your top three?"

She tilted her head to the side and looked up at the ceiling as she mulled it over, tapping a finger against her cheek. "Three? Hmm. I'd have to say.. Daredevil, Wolverine, and Thor."

Stiles' eyebrows few to his hairline of their own accord. "Interesting choices."

"What about you?"

"Well, Deadpool."

She cracked a smile, "What a surprise."

"Ah, then I'd have to say it's a toss-up between Spiderman and the Hulk. Everyone can say Iron Man's the shit but it takes a true pimp to rock purple pants."

She laughed, unexpectedly loud, causing Allison's head to snap over to her; Stiles didn't miss the subtle narrowing of her eyes, chin jutting out almost imperceptibly. Perhaps the jealousy went both ways. Kira clapped a hand over her mouth, pale cheeks turning pink. "That is a very good point. Wasn't he getting some in Planet Hulk too?"

Stiles got excited despite himself, none of his friends read comic books anymore. "Yes! That was beyond excellent, I got all the trades if you want to borrow them sometime." he plopped down on a couch, she smiled warmly at his offer and sat across from him.

"What did you think of the skrull invasion?" she asked, he leaned his elbows on his knees, eyes bright with interest.

"Oh god, that was ridiculous. How'd you like civil war?"

"I cried. Hysterically. On more than one occasion." she admitted, Stiles laughed. "I think that might've been my favorite series, how bout you?"

"House of M, without a doubt." Stiles answered with no hesitation.

"Nerds." Jackson called at them, cutting in on their conversation, Lydia dropped her mouth open and hit him in the arm. Stiles rolled his eyes and offered him a false smile.

"Prince Charming." he responded, Jackson ignored the comment.

"Go check the water in the pool and see if the generator's on. I don't want to have to fumble through the basement for it in the middle of the night."

"Can't." Stiles feigned deep disappointment, "Derek gave strict orders, said no humans outside."

"She," Jackson spat, pointing at Kira, "Isn't a human."

Kira's head dropped slightly, her shoulders tucking closer to her body. Ever since Jackson had gotten shipped back from London his already inflated ego had swelled to a god complex, even more confident since his trip overseas. Although he'd joined Derek's pack almost immediately, he hadn't been happy to come home to three new super-powered members, one of which was fucking his ex-girlfriend. Stiles was fairly certain he'd had a heavy hand in how quickly the twins had disappeared, but he had proven himself loyal to Derek since his return, even if he was still a jerk to the rest of them.

Lydia had accepted him back for the most part, although was much more curt towards him nowadays if that was even possible; she saw Kira's reaction and glared at him. "Don't worry sweetheart, being human's overrated."

"Thanks." Allison said sarcastically, Lydia waved a hand at her dismissively.

Isaac stepped forward between Jackson and Kira. "I'll go check." he volunteered; Allison touched his shoulder as he passed her, a silent thank you for keeping the peace that didn't go unnoticed.

"Aw, thank you alpha's pet." Jackson simpered at him, Isaac rolled his shoulders in irritation as he stalked off.

"Must you create conflict everywhere we go?" Lydia snapped, he shot her a glare, snapping his mouth shut. "Does this place have any alcohol at all? Seriously."

Jackson sighed. "Allison, wanna help me grab a few bottles?"

She nodded with a tentative smile, he led her into the dining room, his fingertips skimming the small of her back. Stiles watched Lydia desperately pretend not to notice, sitting down in an armchair and crossing her legs in a huff, flipping strawberry curls over her shoulder to inspect her nails. He did his best to not notice how high the lace ruffles of her skirt lifted as she sat down, how the peach color of her dress offset her pale legs and perfectly complimented the long tresses framing her face. He forced himself to look elsewhere, anywhere; focusing on the curtains with interest, leg bouncing restlessly.

She became distracted from her nails, digging under her left leg, pulling out a remote from beneath her. "Oh, perfect." she said, turning the tv on above the mantle, switching the channel to a reality show on mtv. The room was immediately filled with the sound of screeching women and shattering glass.

"The hell is that?" Jackson asked as he and Allison returned, bottles clinking in their full arms as they entered the room. They lined up their armloads on a small table pushed up against the staircase, Lydia watched the two of them working in tandem hawkishly. It seemed like everyone was suffering the jealousy bug; Scott was jealous of Allison and Isaac, Allison was jealous of Scott and Kira, Lydia was jealous of Jackson and Allison, and Stiles was jealous of them all.

"I'll go find glasses." Allison offered, leaving the room again; Stiles rose to browse the selection.

"What have we got here?" he moved down the line, noting the high proofs and expensive brands, a diverse selection of whiskey, vodka, brandy, rum and scotch. "Wow, spare no expense, right?"

"Easy there lightweight, we don't want you on the floor before dark." Isaac warned him as he returned from the pool, followed by Allison, helping her set up the glasses at the end of the table. "Water's fine, by the way."

Allison smiled up at him, then glanced out the window, frowning slightly. "It's already getting dark. How long are they going to be out there?"

As if on cue, the front door opened. Scott's hair was disheveled and the knees of his jeans were grass-stained, Derek sauntered in behind him, looking no less worse for the wear. "Hey," Scott greeted them with a wave, slightly winded. Isaac looked to Derek expectantly, receiving a short nod.

"We're good." he stated simply, leaving the room. Kira hopped up to move to Scott's side.

"How was it out there?" she asked, he shrugged.

"Quiet. There's a fire pit out back," he glanced over at Stiles. "You in?"

His eyes lit up, snatching up a handle of run. "C'mon, alcohol and fire? When has that ever _not_ been a great combination?"

They darted off towards the back of the house, abandoning the surprised-looking Kira.

"I better make sure they don't blow themselves up," Isaac grumbled, following them out; Allison giggled and tagged after him.

The fire pit was dug about twenty feet from the concrete edge of the pool, Stiles and Scott already busying themselves gathering sticks from the treeline. Lydia and Jackson walked out of the house, each carrying several bottles; Derek trailed after them at a leisurely pace, his glass of whiskey filled to the brim. Kira was last to emerge, having scoured the house for a basket to bring out a bunch of bottles and glasses all at once; Scott beamed at her for her thoughtfulness.

Allison had stacked the wood he and Stiles brought her, Isaac flipped his zippo lighter back and forth while he watched her precise placement of each stick. Lydia was instructing Jackson to drag some lawn chairs from the pool area over, as she wasn't about to tear her dress sitting on one of the filthy logs circling the pit.

Derek faced away from the group watching the trees, sipping at his drink in feigned disinterest, listening intently to the sounds of his pack in the background. He'd always doubted his abilities as an alpha, especially after the losses of Erica and Boyd. His new pack was shaky at best, on the brink of being halfway competent, if only they could stop fighting long enough to work together.

Scott was strong, but insolent, fighting the chain of command. Isaac was a perfect beta, but his loyalties wavered; and Jackson had been an unexpected asset despite his glaring flaws. He was rather pleased with Lydia and Kira swearing to the pack as well, both were powerful allies, and having a hunter on their side was an obvious advantage. He and Allison still clashed but she at least took orders from Scott, he was tolerating her presence as long as she made herself useful, even if that stupid giggle she did all the time made him grind his teeth like mad. As for Stiles... Well, when it wasn't his fault they were in danger in the first place, even Derek had to admit he was indispensable. If he could get Deaton on his side as adviser; maybe this pack of theirs stood half a chance.

He heard the whoosh of flames and the metallic snap of Isaac's zippo flipping shut, the girls cheered behind him. He swirled the liquid in his glass, taking a another sip, eyes still trained diligently at the shadows looming between the trees. Glasses clinked on bottles and conversations broke out, for a few moments it almost sounded like a regular group of kids if he ignored the supernatural topics being discussed.

"Hey, sourwolf."

Derek turned to glare at Stiles threateningly, the boy grinned at him in glee, just happy he'd responded to the name.

"Just because you're here as a chaperone doesn't mean you have to suck like one." he continued as he sat on one of the long logs facing the fire, beckoning him to join them. He turned back to the group, eyes darting around in excitement, "Hey guys, you know what we should get? S'mores stuff. That'd be amazing."

"Oh, yeah!" Kira exclaimed in excitement, Lydia scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to be bloated enough from drinking, I'm not shoving chocolate down my throat too."

"I hate to say it but I agree." Allison chimed in, "I'll vomit."

Derek wandered back to stand with the circle, silently observing with his drink.

"I don't care who vomits. I'm getting some." Stiles sprang up from his log, Jackson rising on the other side of the fire, much to everyone's surprise.

"I'll show you where stuff is. I'd actually kill for some s'mores right now."

Lydia raised an eyebrow as Jackson led Stiles inside, shrugging and turning back to Kira. Derek's eyes followed them across the yard in suspicion; it was only a matter of time before his unruly beta snapped on the kid for eye-fucking his girlfriend every five minutes. He was so blatantly obvious, eyes glazed over, mouth hanging open as he stared, even Derek found himself getting pissed at his inability to control himself.

He tuned out the conversations in front of him and trained his ears towards the house for any sounds of conflict, almost disappointed when he heard none. The noise from the rest of the pack was a teeming mess of poorly concealed emotion, his well-trained senses easily identifying undertones of desire and jealousy; his nose twitching at the heady scents of lust and possessiveness.

He sighed and gulped at his whiskey, he hoped Scott was right and this trip helped bond the group, although he severely doubted it. With all these unchecked emotions he felt this was a sure recipe for disaster, and as Alpha, he'd be left to pick up the pieces. He tapped a finger against his glass in thought, looking up at the rising moon, half-full behind the clouds, stars lost beneath the haze. He was already here, there was no way out now; he had front row tickets to his pack's hormonal squabbling whether he liked it or not.

**End Chapter 2.**

Chapter two, boom. If you're liking it thus far, let me know! If you don't, also let me know! Won't get better without input. :) Love!


	3. Chapter 3

Starting Chapter 3 with only one review :( Although, I've gotten a crapload of views so people are interested enough to keep looking at it... So I'll push a little further. Blatant pandering! Also FYI there's no beta on this and I usually write at 4am, soooo my bad if I miss things.

**Croatoan**

Chapter 3: Around the Campfire

The night was winding down, they'd been out in the backyard for hours; gathered around the firepit, hanging out on the logs encircling it and relaxing together, which was a bit of a foreign activity for them. Eventually the fire began to die out and Stiles drunkenly volunteered to rebuild it, almost falling headfirst into the flames; Derek snatching him back by a flailing arm, pushing him back onto his log with a snarl. Allison and Kira volunteered to add more wood to the pit instead, doing their best to be friendly to each other and visibly panicking Scott by doing so.

At some point Lydia had turned on her phone and put music on, bobbing her head along and ignoring her friends as they indulged in juvenile antics like making s'mores and sword fighting with sticks. She busied herself with mixing drinks and keeping everyone supplied with ice and booze, ever the hostess no matter where she was. She eventually abandoned her post as barkeep after her fifth mixed drink, loudly proclaiming to Jackson she needed to try out the hot-tub, dragging him off into the house to change into their bathing suits.

Even with prior warning Stiles was unprepared for Lydia's barefoot return, his mouth dropping open as he caught a glimpse of her around Isaac's lanky torso. She was in a classic looking pale pink one-piece, the cut high on her hips, a twist of fabric between her breasts enhancing her already considerable bust. Her arms were around two fluffy white towels she tossed at the edge of the hot-tub, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled brilliantly over her shoulder at Jackson.

Isaac nudged him to catch his attention before Jackson noticed but it went unheeded, he continued to gape at her openly. Derek stepped into his line of sight and crossed his arms, Stiles craned to see around him; he only moved into his way again, clearing his throat sharply. Stiles slumped in defeat and looked back into the fire, nursing the now warm and half-empty bottle of rum in his hand.

He didn't drink often, and now he remembered why - he was surrounded by self-absorbed lovebirds that never realized what a perpetual third, or fifth, or whatever wheel they made him feel like. He tried to concentrate on the music coming from Lydia's phone, abandoned on a lawn chair, doing his best to ignore the sounds of water splashing and her giggling at Jackson. He took another absent-minded pull from the bottle, watching his best friend from across the fire, awkwardly trying to entertain both Allison and Kira.

Scott didn't know shit about being lonely, he always had some puppy-dog romance to completely immerse himself in. Stiles' experience on the other hand, was limited this one time he almost got laid by a girl who was subsequently murdered, and then that one time he got possessed and lost his virginity to a girl who turned out to be Peter Hale's daughter. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly gifted in the romance department; he had even ruined his one shot with Lydia when she kissed him by having a panic attack through it.

He was starting to think that Scott was right and this trip was going to turn into a disaster. It had started off sounding like a fun week in the beginning, before the girls invited themselves along. Suddenly, their whole excursion felt more like a couple's cruise or a honeymoon hotel, he had been promised a pack bonding retreat and he felt isolated and cheated.

This was not the trip he'd signed up for; he felt like enough of an outcast with the gang on a good day in Beacon Hills. He was the only real human in the pack, even Allison had her kickass hunter moves; he simultaneously felt like a liability and a curse, still plagued by crushing guilt after their tangle with the nogitsune. He'd almost gotten all of his friends killed by not keeping his shit together and allowing the evil spirit to possess him, that wasn't something easy to shake off.

He ached to relax, distract himself with a meaningless fling, or even throw himself into a mindless, meaningless rivalry like the rest of the pack but he couldn't. His mind was always in hyperdrive, too focused on finding the next threat, the next clue, the next _something_. To somehow prove himself worthy in his circle or superheros.

He snorted with a wry smirk, shaking his head at the thought as he took another swig from the bottle, almost missing his mouth. He'd always whined about being Robin to Scott's Batman, but the truth was, even Robin had an awesome utility belt. Stiles had a broken jeep and an adderall addiction.

He was becoming rapidly more irritable as the night wore on, his mood not improved by Lydia's flirtatious squeals in the background. Scott, as usual, was oblivious to his plight, too preoccupied trying to balance pursuing Kira and retaining his close relationship with Allison. Actually he wasn't sure what the deal was with Allison, that's just what he was hoping for the sake of peace. Honestly, Stiles wasn't sure what was going through his head these days or what he was really aiming for, but then again Scott himself barely ever knows why he does the things that he does.

At least Isaac was doing him a solid and keeping him company; sharing both his log and bottle, even if he did keep making doe eyes at Allison over the fire. She shot him occasional dimpled grins and fluttered her thick eyelashes at him, but otherwise kept her attention trained on Scott, trapped in a lawn chair between her and Kira. Stiles felt a small pang of guilt, he wondered if he was somehow inadvertently tipping the scales between the two betas.

He looked over to see Scott's eyes meet Isaac's over the fire and felt him tense up next to him, the two werewolves exchanged easy smiles; Isaac snatched the bottle from Stiles as soon as he broke eye contact. Stiles leaned forward to cup his chin in his hand, elbow digging into his knee, which he was sure he would've found painful if he could feel feelings anymore.

"You guys got one hell of a pissing match goin' on, huh?"

Isaac hissed at the bite of the alcohol, baring his teeth briefly, squinting at him. "Right? I thought we were all getting better – you know, I thought he came to terms with everything." his eyes flicked over to Allison, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

"Did he really flip out on you this morning?" Stiles was leaning on his hand too hard and pulling the skin on the right side of his face upward, muffling his words as he stretched his mouth. Isaac shook his head, looking into the mouth of the bottle.

"Nah. I mean he tossed me out of the room, but that's sort of a normal thing. Plus he was out of it." he furrowed his brow further. "He's been weird since we got out here though. Competitive."

"Huh. Here I was thinkin' Jackson would be the one startin' shit when we got here." he grunted, Isaac took another drink and handed him the bottle. He snatched it and brought it to his lips on instinct, taking another swig of warm rum.

He somehow miscalculated the amount of space in his mouth and overfilled it, spurting the excess at the fire. The flames swelled, igniting the spray of liquor, the fire climbing towards his face; Isaac clapped a hand over his mouth in a panic, tipping them both over with his momentum.

They landed in a tangle of limbs, Isaac's tall frame pinning him on his back, shaking with laughter at his stupidity. Stiles coughed and choked beneath him, doing his best to cover his mouth with his limited mobility, tears leaking from his eyes. The girls shrieked and laughter erupted from around the fire, the loudest coming from the direction of the hot-tub.

"Shuttup," Stiles croaked from the ground, Isaac pushing himself up on his hands and shook his head at him, leaves clinging in his brown curls.

"I have no idea how you've managed to live this long."

His tone was playful but the alcohol burned through his veins and the comment only angered him, despite the fact Isaac had just saved him from burning his face off. He was just a wreck in every aspect of his life. "Me neither," he admitted, noting the distinct slur in his voice with a touch of resentment.

His eyes widening suddenly as Isaac began floating off of him like magic, it took several moments for the fog in his mind to clear enough to process Derek lifting him off by the back of his jacket. Stiles scrambled to his elbows as Derek dropped Isaac on his feet and patted him roughly on the shoulder, pushing him off to the side slightly. His hazel eyes narrowed at Stiles and he leaned forward, reaching forward with a snarl; Stiles screwed his eyes shut and gulped, fully expecting physical violence. He felt Derek snatch the bottle from his hand, which he'd somehow managed to both keep a hold of and keep upright while being tackled; his eyes flew open in outrage.

"Hey-"

"Can you get any stupider." Derek was not amused in the slightest, Stiles blinked up at him and extended his lower lip, blearily reaching out for his stolen booze.

"Depends on if you're nice enough to gimme back that bottle."

"What a great sales pitch. No." Derek snapped, snatching his outstretched arm by the wrist and hauling him up. He pushed the bottle at Isaac's chest and turned back to him. "You're done."

Stiles struggled to find his footing and almost collided into Derek's torso; the wolf grabbed him by the shoulders with an irritated grunt, frowning as he swayed in his hands. Scott had risen from his chair, raising his brow at Derek questioningly; he just shook his head, spinning Stiles in his hands and turning him towards the house.

"Let's go."

Stiles was vaguely aware of being pushed inside while a chorus of his friends bid him good night, the world swimming, his body warm, stomach churning. He was rather baffled as to how his legs were moving fluidly beneath him as hands on his back propelled him through the kitchen. He reached out towards the fridge as he passed it, filled with the sudden urge to get something to eat, that would help; but the hands on his back were firm and unyielding so through the dining room he went.

He caught sight of the living room, the soft, inviting couches and lurched forward towards them; nearly choking when he was pulled back by his shirt and redirected towards the stairs.

"Hey-" he whined, looking behind him, eyes going comically wide as he realized Derek was the one pushing him. He turned in his grasp as they reached the staircase, pointing back to the living room. "Hang on, I-"

"Stiles, knock it off." Derek's patience was at his limit, he knew he'd end up babysitting his pack the whole week but he hadn't expected it to start quite so soon. Stiles' gaze was fixated in the other room over his shoulder as he gestured uselessly at it, opening his mouth to continue to argue. "Don't." he snapped, cutting him off, "You almost set yourself on fire twice tonight. Twice. Bed."

"Dude, that's what I'm tryin' to say-"

Derek spun the boy around roughly, finished with his protests, pushing him up the stairs. He stumbled on the steps and fell onto his hands; Derek grabbed his shirt again before his face got annihilated, sure to keep a firm grip on him for the rest of the trip. He faltered at the top of the steps, feet dragging, trying to turn around again.

"Hang on, hang on." Stiles twisted and flailed until he'd managed to face Derek, who had retained his grip on the back of his shirt, the fabric now pulled up over his shoulder and making Stiles hunch forward awkwardly. "Hang on," he pleaded, holding up his hands.

Derek scowled and let go before he pulled his shirt off entirely, Stiles straightened, pulling the fabric back down. "I'm just gonna head back downstairs real quick-" he concentrated on keeping his words from slurring, going to move around Derek to the stairs, stopping short when he stepped in his way.

"No."

"Derek, c'mon," his tilted his head back as he moaned insolently at him, trying to go back the other way. "I'll go to bed, I won' go back outside, seriously. I just want some water, and then I promise I'll just chill in the living room or something-"

Derek's hand on his chest was like a brick wall. "No."

Stiles tried to push past him uselessly. "Dude, seriously, c'mon,"

Derek snapped; grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt with a snarl, slamming him up against the wall, he impacted with arms flailing and a graceless thud. "Enough." he growled, eyes flashing dangerously. "You are wasted, you need to go to bed. You almost caught on fire _twice_."

Stiles' heartrate stuttered and skyrocketed as Derek crowded him against the wall, pinning him with a firm, persistent pressure no amount of squirming would free him from. He gulped and glanced up at the wolf's irritated expression, trying to talk sense through his drunken stupor, the sharp green of his hazel eyes piercing through him in frustration. His teeth flashed as he spoke, sharp canines elongating; Stiles' gaze dropped down to his mouth, his own falling open, throat going dry. When Derek didn't speak again, words fell from Stiles' mouth without thinking to fill the space, addressing the vicious-looking fangs inches from his face. "Well hey man, it's touching to know you care so much." he cooed sarcastically, watching as Derek's lips pull tightly around his teeth and dip downwards.

Somewhere deep in his brain, sluggish alarms began to ring as it processed what 'fangs' meant, warning him of imminent danger through the haze of alcohol. He began to blink rapidly, taking stock of his surroundings. Wall. Derek. Teeth. He was going to get his throat ripped out.

Stiles' eyes began the long trek back up his face to meet Derek's gaze, becoming aware that he had fallen silent, idly wondering what his headstone would look like. Derek scowled down at him, assessing him for another long moment before speaking again, a bit hesitantly. "Where's your room."

It wasn't a request, it wasn't a demand; the suicidal part of Stiles' brain told him if he started whining about the living room again he had at least a 20% chance of winning. Instead he pointed awkwardly over Derek's arm gripping his shirt, blaming the rum for how croaky he sounded. "Second door on the right."

Derek paused again before releasing him as hesitantly as he'd spoken, raising an eyebrow and leading him down the hall. He kept a firm hand on his shoulder to ensure he didn't escape, which was probably a good idea with how fidgety and energetic Stiles felt. He stopped them at the second door on their right as Stiles had instructed, the corner bedroom facing the front of the house. "You sure this is yours?" Derek asked, displeasure audible in his voice even to Stiles as he turned the knob and swung the door open.

Stiles nodded and stumbled in, pointing to his backpack on the floor next to the bed. "Yup. See? S'mine." he nudged it with his foot as he passed to further illustrate his point, moving to the door to the balcony. He opened it and a gust of cool air blew through the room, he glanced back at Derek hovering tensely in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

"You're going out there?" his voice was rough with disapproval, Stiles fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't that much of a walking disaster magnet.

"Yes." he sighed, "I won't fall off. I just want some fresh air. Then I'm gonna pee and then I'll go to bed, don't worry. You can go chaperone everyone else now, I'm fine."

Derek didn't look happy about it, clenching his jaw for a second. "Fine. If you fall off, I'm not helping you. You're sleeping out there." He shut the door behind him and Stiles snorted, turning out the door and walking onto the balcony.

It was a short little walkway, only about three feet wide and five feet across, looking out over the front yard and driveway. It was more open in the front than in the back, with less tree cover the night sky looked massive and endless, clouds dissipating to reveal bright stars. The breeze was brisk and cooled his heated skin, combing through his hair, his skin prickling at the sensation as he closed his eyes. It was so quiet here, so unlike the suburban hills of California; the only sounds in the stillness the chirping of the crickets, the 'whoo' of an owl. The wind whispered through the trees, gently rustling the leaves, branches creaking with movement. The scent of pines and mint wafted by as the wind whipped around him, making his world spin and tumble, whispered to him and tossed at his hair, swept beneath his arms and made him feel light as air. The feeling of wonderful buoyancy washed over him and his stomach dipped, the wind slashed at his skin, thundering in his ear; he was lightheaded and weak, swaying where he stood.

His eyes flew open and his hand shot to the railing; the world suddenly stopping hard and fast and he gripped the rail for dear life to keep from falling, or sliding, or floating away. He blinked hard at the camaro in the front yard and waiting for triple to become single, his lips numb, his skin ghosted in a sheen of sweat. He licked his lips a few times as he waited and the rush of blood in his ears abated, he straightened and tried to stand on his own, wavering slightly. He glanced back up at the yard; a bright moon hung far in the dark sky, stars twinkling beneath the clouds, treetops swaying in the night.

He turned back to his room with a sigh, staggering back in through the doors and leaving them open for fresh air. He headed towards the bathroom; a simple, functioning space adjoined to the room next to his. He shut the doors and relieved himself, almost forgetting which side his room was on before stumbling off to head to bed.

When he entered his room the door was ajar, he walked over to it and poked his head outside, seeing no one in the hall. He shrugged and shut the door again, turning around to see a sealed bottle of water on the bedside table, grinning in relief. He cracked it open and chugged half of it, not realizing he was dying of thirst until he'd seen it. He had barely screwed the cap back on when his strength finally left him and he fell onto the bed, the world spinning lazily beneath him as he shut his eyes. He tried form coherent thoughts and failed, he did somersaults beneath his closed eyelids, his stomach rolling as if he were free-falling; he sank deeper in his mattress as he fell further, falling and falling until he fell asleep.

*End Chapter 3

Lemme know if you want more, otherwise it's back to my other guilty pleasures ;)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Croatoan**_

**Chapter 4: Close Encounter  
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Stiles awoke unrested and uncomfortable, his own groans of discomfort waking him. He wasn't hungover, which was a blessing; but his shoulders were tensed and rock-hard, his muscles in knots, a twig was caught in his shirt jabbing him in the ribs and his scalp itched from the dirt in his hair. He slid out of the sheets, wincing as his feet hit the floor, the tender undersides throbbing and sore.

He popped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, getting dressed and wandering out into the hall, met with silence as the rest of the house slumbered on. He fiddled with his cell as he went downstairs and made himself breakfast; toast, glass of orange juice, and a banana. When he finished he swept his crumbs off the counter and into the sink, pulling open the slider and heading outside into the early morning sun, letting the light bath his skin in its warmth.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the country air clear and clean in his lungs. He stretched by the pool, twisting his torso and extending his arms, pulling out all the kinks in his joints. He fished his earbuds out of his pocket and hooked them up to his phone, setting up a playlist and tucking his phone back into his pocket as he bent over to tighten the laces of his sneakers.

He set out in a jog, taking a leisurely lap around the property to wake himself up before heading out into the woods. The foliage was similar to Beacon Hills Preserve; although the trees were a little taller, the trunks thicker, clustered closer together. He picked up the pace as his music sped up and the tension eased from his limbs, stomping out his aches and pains to the beat with each footfall in the forest. Once he had traveled a ways from the house he found himself a good tree and launched himself at a thick, low-lying branch, hauling himself up and clamboring up the trunk. Once he reached the top he gave himself a second to enjoy the view and wasted no time scurrying back down, he didn't want his heartrate to drop. He moved to the sturdier branches near the bottom and hooked his knees around one, swinging upside-down to do his curl-ups, blood rushing to his head.

The scent of the earth was rich out here; all dirt and dead leaves and crisp air blowing in from the mountains. As much as he loved his hometown it had been getting so populated, floods of people relocating and moving in, drawn by the nemeton, neighborhoods and stripmalls beginning to pop up on the outskirts of town. Out here he could hear himself think, let himself breath, he had always felt more at home amongst nature.

As he lowered himself from a curl he found himself level with a denim crotch; he squawked and panicked, dropping from the branch to the ground, landing on his face. He spat out a mouthful of leaves and scrambled backwards, yanking his headphones out of his ears and glaring up at Scott.

"What the hell man, you trying to give me fucking heart attack?" he gasped, clutching his chest, longing for the days Scott was an asthmatic and carried an inhaler. Scott's head was tilted, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Getting buff out here?" he laughed, Stiles glowered as he stood, brushing off his pants.

"Yeah man, remember all that business with how I'm still just a human? Gotta keep up with all you freaks somehow. This way I can take twice the beatings."

Scott rolled his eyes and shook his head; his hair had been growing out again, climbing down into his eyes. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, back in the general direction of the house. "Derek sent me to look for you, no one knew where you went."

Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket to pause his music, squinting up at him against the sun. "Yeah, no one was up when I headed out. I figured I'd just let everyone sleep. I'm about finished up anyway."

He tucked the phone back in his pocket and they headed back towards the house, they hadn't walked more than two minutes before Stiles couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. "So you gotta level with me man, what's going on with Allison?"

His brown eyes were wide as he looked over at him, shooting him a nervous smile. "What? Nothing. I mean, nothing like _that_. We're just trying to be friends."

"Ohh spare me." Stiles drawled, whacking him in the shoulder with the back of his hand. "You can drop all that diplomatic, altruistic 'good for the pack' bull. It's me dude, that's what I'm here for. Vent."

Scott's pace slowed, he hung his head with a frustrated moan. "Oh god, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Stiles laughed, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Do you ever?"

"I'm totally screwing up my life."

"Aren't you always?"

"I don't know why I'm messing this up! I mean, it was all going great, you know? Like me and Kira were doing great, her and Isaac were doing great, and we were all getting along.. And now we come here and I'm around her again and god dude she smells so good-"

"Woah, woah there Romeo. Go easy." Stiles stopped him with a hand on his chest, they paused on the trail. "Are you saying you want back with Allison? What about Kira?"

Scott threw his head back and groaned up at the sky. "I don't know! I mean, I like Kira, you know that." he looked Stiles for confirmation; he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Sure."

"I mean, how could I not? She's gorgeous and sweet and silly and way too nice.." he trailed off, looking out at the treeline, "She's great."

"Just not Allison?"

Scott hung his head again, "Yeah." he muttered.

Stiles sighed and put an arm around him, turning them back down the path and starting off again. "Listen man, there's no shame in not being over her."

"God dude, I'm such an idiot."

"Yes, yes you are. But a loveable idiot."

"I just forgot how intense it was to be around Allison, you know? She's just so strong, and confident, and smart.. Kira's awesome and everything but it's just not the same as it was with her."

"To be fair, Allison was your first love. I don't think anything's supposed to compare to that, but yeah, I get it. Damn it, you know I was just starting to like her?"

Scott raised an eyebrow, "You like everyone."

"That's not true. Jackson. I don't like Jackson. Or the dick-twins."

"Well, mostly everyone. You know, I think the problem with Kira is that I like her too much. Like we're such good friends already I feel like getting in a relationship would just mess that up."

Stiles glanced back at him in disbelief, shaking his head sadly. "Do yourself a favor buddy? Don't use that line when you break it off with her."

"It's true!" Scott insisted, "She's like, one of the best friends I've ever had and we barely know each other. I don't want to jeopardize that. To be honest, she kind of reminds me of you."

"There are so many disturbing implications that brings to mind I hardly know where to begin." Stiles shivered dramatically, Scott whacked him in the back.

"Oh shut up. I hope Derek really does tear you limb from limb for wandering off."

Stiles whirled on him, eyes wide. "Shit, did he say that?" he asked, a note of panic in his voice; Scott smirked at him smugly.

"Yup."

"God, why didn't you tell me? You're like the worst friend ever!" he cried in frustration, breaking off into a jog back towards the house.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be here for me! Stiles, I have problems!" Scott's laughter chased after him, Stiles cursed him under his breath as his feet pounded the earth. He was going to kill Scott, if Derek didn't kill him first.

_Derek's POV:_

Derek hauled himself out of the pool onto the warm cement, the sun had barely climbed over the treetops and already the air was hot and stagnant. He shook his head, droplets spraying in an arc around him; he grabbed the towel he'd tossed onto a lawnchair, wiping it over his face and chest. It was loud with activity in the backyard, the open space echoing with the sounds of his pack, all early risers filled with the energy of youth.

Allison had taken paper targets and pinned them up along the treeline, dashing around and firing at them with her crossbow, practicing her shots while running and mid-somersault. Lydia wasn't dressed for such nonsense in her sandals, short summer dress and expensive sunglasses; dragging a chair from the pool into the grass to lay in the sun and read a book. Jackson had brought free-weights outside from his uncle's workout room in the basement, setting them up by the doors to the living room. He did arm curls with them in the shade of the cabin, watching the girls in the yard out of the corner of his eye, peeling off his shirt when they failed to notice how much weight he was lifting.

Kira and Isaac suddenly came tearing around the side of the house; Isaac in the lead, plucking leaves off the trees and throwing them back at Kira, taunting her over his shoulder. Kira shrieked and dodged the leaves, laughing and cursing and chasing after him. They raced through the center of the yard, giving Allison a wide berth as not to get shot; they disappeared around the other side of the house, voices echoing after them. Scott had originally started the race, abandoning his position in the rear when Derek had called him aside to go look for Stiles, who he hadn't seen since last night.

He hung his towel off the back of the chair to dry, bending over to twist at the mesh fabric of his black swim shorts, wringing out the excess moisture. He reached over and picked up his discarded shirt, shaking it out to find the correct holes when there was a disturbance from the opposite end of the yard.

His head shot up as his ears localized the sounds of something crashing through the brush from the woods, approaching from the west where Allison was practicing her archery. He recognized the intrusion as Stiles before he saw him; heard the familiar rabbiting heartbeat, the same wheezing gasps as he ran. Derek furrowed his eyebrows, surprised at how fast Stiles was running, hazel eyes darting over to Allison as she lined up a shot, his mouth falling open to late to warn her to stop.

Stiles broke through the treeline as her fingers slipped from the bowstring, the arrow slicing through the air as Stiles' head lined up with the target; his eyes widening at the arrow, falling backwards with a yell. He fell heavily to the ground on his back, flailing arms and legs churning up a cloud of dirt and dead leaves as the tip of Allison's arrow sank into the wood behind the bullseye. Her hand shot to her mouth and she gasped, dropping her bow as Lydia scrambled out of her chair, both of them running forward.

"Jesus Stiles, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!" Allison wailed, Derek jogged over to them as Lydia fell to her knees to help Stiles up.

He grimaced up at her, a hand on his back as he rolled to one side to try to rise, "No, no, it's okay. Nothing wakes you up in the morning like an arrow in the face." He held on to Lydia's forearm as he got on his feet, shooting her a thankful smile.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry." Allison rambled, looking like she might cry as she helped Lydia dust him off; Stiles looked embarrassed from all the attention. Scott came jogging out of the woods from the same direction Stiles came in, looking perplexed at the scene.

"What's going on?" he asked with a quirk of his head as he trotted up to them, Allison grabbed on to his arm desperately with wild eyes.

"I didn't see him, I swear, he came out of nowhere!"

"Hey, calm down, I'm fine." Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

Lydia tutted and plucked a stick out of his hair. "Why were you in such a rush?"

He glanced up at Derek guiltily, "I uh, didn't mean to make you worry. I just went for a run, I know I shoulda left a note or something."

Derek crossed his arms at him, more out of self-consciousness than disapproval as his eyes flicked down to his bare chest. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I wasn't worried. I just sent Scott out to see if you were alright."

Stiles' mouth parted as he glanced back at Scott in bewilderment. "What? You said he was pissed."

Scott grinned at him, a dimple appearing in one cheek, shrugging. Stiles' clenched his jaw, balling his hands into fists. "Man, you are _such_ an asshole."

Derek grunted, finished with his pack's antics. "Well I guess you're fine." he said, turning to head back towards the pool. "Just don't put your face in front of any more targets."

Isaac and Kira had rounded the house again, approaching the group as Derek walked away.

"Hey, what's going on?" Kira asked, the pleasant smile frozen on her face as she glanced at Allison's hand on Scott's arm. Scott cleared his throat, shrugging her hand off and approaching Kira, "Oh hey! Uh, nothing, we just got back."

"And almost murdered." Stiles grumbled, pushing past them. Allison winced at his words, Isaac cocked an eyebrow at her over Kira's head. Lydia clapped her hands together for everyone's attention as she followed Stiles out into the yard.

"Alright everybody, I think we could use a group activity. How about we go into town and see what's around here or something?"

Jackson had finally set his weights aside to join them, wandering over with a smirk on his face. "Really? The point of coming out here is to get away from civilization, it hasn't even been a day."

She scoffed at him, putting her hands on her waist and jutting out a hip. "Oh really? Then how about you come up with an idea."

"Why don't we go for a hike?" Kira piped up, looking at Scott beside her for backup. "I mean, it's gorgeous out here, I'd love to see more of it."

"See that?" Lydia patted the girl fondly on the shoulder, "Making suggestions? That's how to be helpful."

"I wouldn't say no to that," Isaac agreed, glancing over at Derek by the pool, watching them stonily. He shook his head when everyone else followed his gaze, scowling at the teenagers.

"Don't look at me. I'm not making any decisions."

Scott rolled his eyes, winding an arm around Kira's waist that Stiles stared at pointedly. "Well, I think it's a good idea," he smiled at her, turning to the rest of the group. "Everyone else up for it?"

No one dissented, Stiles watched the prolonged eye contact between Scott and Allison, fighting the urge to shake his head in disgust. This was a slow motion disaster.

"Okay, so why don't we meet back here in like, 5 minutes?" Allison tucked her hair behind her ear, nudging Lydia. "I have an extra pair of sneakers you can borrow if you want."

The redhead sighed in relief, "Oh good."

The two of them headed into the house, Kira stood on her tiptoes to kiss Scott on the cheek before breaking away to follow them. "I'm just going to go pee real quick and I'll be ready."

Isaac wandered away to talk to Derek as he retrieved his shirt on the opposite side of the pool, and Jackson had long since abandoned everyone to go back to lifting weights; once they were alone, Stiles turned and smacked Scott soundly upside the head.

"Ow, hey! Sorry man, why are you so mad?" he ducked away from him and held his hands up to fend him off, "You should be happy Derek's not pissed."

"Happy? _Happy?_ I nearly burst a lung sprinting back here, under the distinct impression that a certain alpha with anger problems wanted to 'rip me limb from limb'." he punctuated his point with whack to his ribs. Scott scowled at him and he sighed, glancing at Kira flouncing across the yard to the sliding glass door, shining black hair flowing after her. "But that wasn't what the smack was for."

Scott followed his gaze, face falling when he saw her, hanging his head. "I know."

"Scott-"

"I _know_. It's just too late. I'm in too deep."

"Only if you keep going." Stiles pushed his hands into his pockets, winding the cord of his earbuds around his finger. "I mean, she's not even your girlfriend yet, right? So just, call it off." he glanced over at his best friend, the slack look on his face at his words. "_Or_, if you're too much of a chicken for that, you can at least not encourage it. Put some space between you guys, don't lead her on so much."

"This is the worst vacation ever." Scott groaned, Stiles hummed back at him, wandering back to the tree he'd almost been leveled in front of. He reached up and grabbed the arrow, yanking it out of the wood and tossing it beside Allison's discarded crossbow on the grass.

His thumb throbbed and he glanced down at it; he had nicked it on the arrowhead, a pinprick of blood forming on the pad of his thumb. Figures.

"You might not be wrong about that, Scotty-boy." he shot him a thin-lipped smile, doing his best not to let anything get to him. He was still determined to have a good time on this trip despite his near-death experience, and god damn it, his idiot friends and their tumultuous love lives were not going to ruin this for him.

And if they did ruin this for him, he would drag everyone down with him.

**End Chapter 4.**

Trying to get things moving along, focusing on the whole Isaac/Allison/Scott/Kira situation is more of a space-filler than actual plot. xoxoQuinn


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